He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. Capes bore a face of infinite perplexity. It was Ennison, who loomed up through the shadows. She made noises between weeping and laughter as she went. He hadn't followed this angle of thought in ten years: what he might have been, with a little shrewd selfishness. " And then he added, in an under tone, "Conceal yourself outside, and be within call. He sent me flowers. With one or two exceptions, there were no pews; and, as the intercourse with London was then but slight, the seats were occupied almost exclusively by the villagers. She did not try to approach him.
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